Albus Potter and the Ghost of the Forbidden Forest
by debookworm01
Summary: It's Albus Severus Potter's third year of Hogwarts, and a strange fog is surrounding the school. As Albus becomes drawn in by the inscrutability, he realises that it could be linked to his mysterious past, and it may be too late to turn back.
1. The Dream

**Author's Notes: OK, this is my first story, so it might not be written very well and isn't very long, but hey, that's where you come in! Please R&R!!! (If it is apparently good then I will continue.)  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters or places mentioned in this story, although some of the characters I have made up myself.**

Albus stared into the gloom of the lonely corridor, his Father's 'invisibility cloak' smothering his body with the sticky hotness of the night. He began to walk swiftly, narrowly avoiding Peeves, the ghostly poltergeist of the school. It was almost impossible to see in the fog, and he tripped over often, occasionally waking paintings of famous wizards. He cursed in frustration, as he realised that he had completely forgotten where he had last seen him.

The 'him,' Albus wasn't exactly sure who, but all he knew was that they had been causing all this fog and heat.

His father had explained to him about dementors, of course, but this mystery couldn't possibly be being caused by one of them, because when they come near, everything goes cold and everyone's happiness is sucked away from them. Albus didn't feel unhappy, and he certainly didn't feel cold - only cautious and incredibly sweaty. . . But then - the fog. . .

He shook himself, as if the troubled thoughts could somehow fall out of his mind and onto the marble floor. A fair distance away, he heard the footsteps of his professors, for, they to, were attempting to uncover the mystery of the fog and heat. He glanced down at the Marauder's Map (which had been his grandfather's and father's) to see if any of them were approaching. They weren't, so, with a quick tap of his wand, (mischief managed!) he stuffed it into his trouser pocket and headed back to the Gryffindor common room.

His older brother, James, greeted him with an exasperated expression upon his face. He had been waiting for Albus, knowing that he had used the cloak that they had sworn not to wear unless in an emergency. As Albus recalled, he was still surprised at how serious and mature his brother had acted that day. It had scared him. Later he had made a joke about, only to receive a hard scold.

"Dad won't be happy with you," was all James said, a smirk playing across his lips.

"What do you mean?" Al asked, "I would expect he would be proud."

"What? That his favourite son is picking up the mantle of solving mysteries?" Al blushed furiously. He had always admired his father. Yet, now he frowned. There was something in his brother's eyes that was ever so daunting. It had been there ever since his first day at Hogwarts. That had been two years ago. Even Lily had noticed. The strangest thing was, was that whenever they went back home for the summer, James went back to normal and everything was okay. When Al or Lily ever asked him about it either at home or at school, the same result would always be a confused look or a cold stare.

It seemed that whenever James was as Hogwarts, his personality would change from the usual mischievousness to a strange Malfoy-like personality (As Albus liked to put it.)

"Well," Albus sighed, "I'm off to bed."

James watched him go, until he was finally alone, and was left to deal with a secret business of his own.

* * *

Albus finally collapsed on his bed, to find that his pitch-black shaded owl, Walters, had arrived back with a dead vermin pinched amongst his large beak. The owl hooted a welcome, before consulting to his meal. Throwing the invisibility cloak lazily into his open trunk, and then closing it with an outstretched foot, Albus sighed in contentment. For even if one was to have a dreadful day, Hogwarts' four posted beds never seemed to fail in making someone utterly relaxed.

He listened for a while to the hushed cracking of the mouse's bones and joints, before falling into a restless sleep.

* * *

_Albus' dream was the same as it always was. He was looking down on a scene of him and his fellow class mates in a Care of Magical Creatures class with Hagrid._

_He saw that Hagrid was in deep conversation with the class, or rather with himself, as hardly anybody was listening. Albus could see himself drawing a picture of a threstral, or, what he thought a threstral looked like in the margin of his school book. His best friend Eliza Hearting was staring at the drawing in a mystified manner and the rest of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were either picking at the grass or staring off into space._

_Suddenly, a change fell upon the scene, and although Albus had had this dream many times before already, he couldn't help but be surprised. _

_He had felt a change, but as he looked down, he realised that everything and everyone was just as it was before, talking to self, drawing, being mystified, picking grass, staring into space and all. _

_He thought all too soon. A choking fog appeared abruptly, surrounding the unsuspecting class. It did not reach up far enough to come in contact the 'looking down on the scene' Albus, and if it had even done so, he doubted it would have done him any harm. _

_He soon heard choking and gasping, as the crowd slowly suffocated. The fog just got thicker and thicker. _

_Now Albus was beyond desperate. He tried to go down and help them, only to realise that he was nothing in his dream, and being nothing he could do nothing at all. _

_A silence fell upon everything. This was the part of the dream that Albus dreaded. _

_An eerie moan filled the air, and someone swiftly began to rise from the dense fog. It if could have, a shiver would have run down Albus' spine. But it couldn't. So all he could do was stare in horror. He realised that the figure was a ghost, a man, but a ghost. _

_The ghost began to move towards the castle, still moaning in that fearsome way. But then it stopped, and turned around to face Albus, before speeding towards him with a wand outdrawn that Albus knew could affect him.

* * *

_

Albus woke up gasping as he always did, to find that it was only fifteen minutes ago that he had fallen asleep. He groaned inwardly, before wiping the thin sheet of sweat that had developed on his face away. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Breathing Problems

**Author's Notes: I updated! YAY! Sorry I took awhile, but I was REALLY busy. But since now it's the hols, I should be able to finish chapters quicker. I'm hoping to get a few reviews out of this chappy, so PLEASE R&R!!!**

**Disclaimer:You know the drill people!  
**

"Alright! I'm sure you are all aware that your 12 inches of parchment for homework is due tomorrow." Everyone in the class groaned, and then sucked in quickly to get the best air through their lungs.

Although the fog wasn't as thick in the day as in the night, it was still getting thicker. Professor Lockhart, with his dazzling smile not as appealing as when it had been when he was younger, looked around the classroom with such happiness in his face that one would think he had met Harry Potter.

"Don't worry," he said to the third years, "the teachers will stop this haze soon, I am sure of it!" He glanced about, expecting to hear applause. But there was none of that such, of course.

Albus gazed around, tired from lack of air, and wondering exactly how Professor McGonagall had allowed Lockhart to teach here again, after his failed attempt in his father's second year.

Although the curse that Voldemort had set upon the school for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post had been broken, the teachers had decided to switch the professors every year anyway. Albus glanced over to his best friend, Asher Finnigan, whose father had known Harry when he was younger, and pointed to his mouth, and then made a cutting motion across his throat, rolling his eyes back. Asher nodded, looking up, or rather, around at the fog with concern in his eyes. Eliza Hearting gazed over at them, (Albus' other best friend) and rolled her eyes,

"You guys," she whispered, smiling in a playful way, "Don't insult the fog!"

Professor Lockhart whipped his head around from the blackboard, frowning, stunned that someone could dare to interrupt his lesson. He seemed to get over it, although occasionally he would turn around and frown again.

When the lesson ended, Albus was once again bombarded by Lockhart, ("Albus! I'm still amazed how much you look like your father, although I can't really remember him... Say! You can help me catch some muggles can't you? They'll be good for next lesson!") before walking away from the loony as fast as his legs could take him.

* * *

"What took you?" Asher asked, as Albus huffed down onto the seat next to Eliza in the Great Hall, his Irish accent not as noticeable as his father's,

"Lockhart again," Albus sighed, picking up a turkey sandwich and nibbling it absently. He looked up at the teachers' table, where the Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, was whispering worriedly to Professor Longbottom, the Herbology teacher, and also the Head of Gryffindor of Hogwarts,

"They've been whispering like that for days now, ever since the fog arrived last week," Eliza informed Albus, following his line of sight. That was true. There was never a moment when you didn't see the two teachers deep in conversation,

"Maybe they've got a relationship going, aye?" Asher said jokingly, "I mean, there's a bit of an age difference, but why not?"

Eliza sighed in frustration,

"Don't be stupid Ash! It's obvious they are talking about what to do if the fog gets any thicker!"

Albus suddenly had an image of Hermione, his aunt. Eliza sounded exactly like Hermione did in the stories his dad told him sometimes. Bossy and straightforward.

"If it gets any thicker and hotter we'll all either suffocate or die of dehydration," Asher muttered, snapping Albus out of his 'daydream.'

Asher's words sent a buzz of conversation through the Hall with what would happen if all the drama kept up. By the end of lunch, the most normal 'ending to them all' was that everyone would shrivel up like prunes and all the water from everyone's bodies would add to the fog making it even thicker. Therefore, prunes would be walking around the place bumping into each other from loss of sight, and be struggling to breathe.

* * *

"It's our break now, then we have Herbology," said Asher happily, as they walked back to the Gryffindor Common room to dump their school books away, "let's go see Hagrid; we haven't in a while now!"

Albus sighed. His homework that was due tomorrow would just have to wait.

* * *

They bounded down happily to the hut, where smoke was rising from the chimney, (Although not very noticeable at a first glance) and then Asher knocked smartly on the door several times. There was a shuffle of feet, and crashing of things falling over, until finally, Hagrid came out. The moment he saw them his old face lit up with happiness,

"Yeh came!" Hagrid boomed happily, urging them inside with a walking stick almost as tall as Albus. Eliza gave Hagrid a confused look,

"Why? Have you got something to tell us Hagrid?"

Hagrid just smiled even wider,

"Nah, I have summat to _show_ yeh." He shuffled over to the far corner of his hut, whilst Albus, Asher and Eliza shared worried looks. Albus hoped that this wouldn't end up like the incident with Norbert, or rather, Norberta, in his father's first year.

It was however nothing of that such... sort of.

Hagrid handed a piece of card to Albus, barely able to find the sheer excitement that was spreading upon his face.

It was a picture of Albus' Uncle Charlie, with a dragon lying next to him, with contentment upon its face,

"What? Albus' uncle with a dragon isn't that exciting. He works with dragons."

"That's not just any dragon!" Albus said, his voice rising, "Is – Is that _Norbert – a!_"

"Yeah," Hagrid said proudly, before blowing his nose like a trumpet.

Asher and Eliza shared confused looks, until Albus told them the whole story from beginning to end.

By then, it was almost time for Herbology.

"See you tomorrow at Care of Magical Creatures," Albus said to Hagrid, waving as he walked away with his friends. Hagrid blew his nose again, still staring at the picture.

Professor Longbottom, or Neville, as Albus' mum always called him, gave the three friends a stern look as they walked in late, although it wasn't to heart, as he thought dearly of the children. They went to a table sheepishly, with two Hufflepuff girls staring at Albus in wonder. He could only guess what they were thinking; _Albus Potter is at our table, Albus __**Potter**__!_ He sighed, (and not for the first time that day either) and then tuned in to what his teacher was saying.

* * *

The Great Hall was packed with students, and owls swooping to and fro, delivering goods and messages. Albus peered around for Sawn, his family's owl that sometimes came with packages or letters from home to himself, James and Lily. The owl wasn't in sight.

Albus sat down gratefully, and at once began to attack a chicken drumstick. He thought he heard Eliza mutter something like 'pig,' but maybe it was just his imagination.

As expected, Lily soon confronted Albus through a half finished salad, complaining that James' personality misdemeanour wasn't waning, before going back to her friends,

"She tells you that nearly every day now," Eliza mused, "she cares about your brother a lot."

"I know she does," Albus replied, "That's why I have to work out what's going on with him, before it becomes out of hand."

Eliza nodded solemnly, and then began to read the subject they had been studying at Herbology from a precariously large book.

Asher rolled his eyes at Albus, mouthing something like 'How big does a book need to be?'

Suddenly, a flash of white and brown shot past Albus, landing several feet away on someone's plate of food.

It was Sawn. The owl hopped over to Albus gingerly, and then stretched out one foot. It was addressed not only to him, but also to Lily and James. He was about to call them over when Lily suddenly appeared at his side. James, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Deciding that it didn't really matter if James wasn't there, Albus opened the letter slowly and carefully, but after much complaint unfolded the parchment swiftly.

Inside, the letter shocked them all. The three small words hit Albus right where it hurt.

'_Ron is dead.' _It said.

**Duh Duh Duh! OOOOOH! Pressure! Cliffy? Yes. Please R&R!**


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